By Definition
by Neo Diji
Summary: Short introspective piece on Al. Slight angst. Brotherly love. Al wonders if his love for his brother is real or just imagined from childhood memories.


Disclaimer: I do not own FMA.

Originally posted 3/17/06.

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By Definition

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Alphonse Elric loved his brother.

He _knew_ this, relished the relationship between Edward and himself. As onlookers had often commented, the Elric brothers lived only for the other's happiness and wholeness. Nothing substantial could wedge between them and destroy the intense feelings shared between them, undo the mistakes the two had committed and endured _together_. The close bond formed between the two brothers bound them in a way incomparable.

There had been so many heart-wrenching circumstances in which to testify to that bond, that brotherly love, in just the span of three or four years that the younger brother was simply amazed at the depth and intensity conveyed. The most striking example, of course, was the failed attempt at human transmutation. Edward had selflessly sacrificed his right arm and left leg simply to save Al's soul, though the method used would tear at his heart with guilt for years to follow. Alphonse could never find it in him to hate his brother, as Edward expected. He didn't mind—too much—being in an armored shell as long as he was by his big brother's side.

He loved his brother.

For a time following his soul's transition to the armor, Al had troubles differentiating between emotions, senses, and memories. Without a human body, he couldn't _feel_ through the cold metal in which his soul was encased. He wondered, oddly enough, why he could still hear and see. He had heard before that one's senses were tied to the soul; only two of the five were accounted for, the other three being left behind with his lost body. He couldn't feel anything through touch, taste, or smell.

But he still had his mind.

He remembered being able to eat and drink, remembered being able to smell the sweet scent of cookies in the oven or the baked grass during summer. Remembered being able to feel his beloved mother kiss his forehead good-night. Remembered being able to feel Edward's hand holding his own.

He missed those sensations.

But he had come to terms with his predicament, understanding that his current body was not capable of feeling. Al merely wondered if it was the physical sensations only that the armor was unable to identify with. He worried that, perhaps, the love he felt for his brother _was_ fake in comparison.

His metal body didn't react to emotions.

He could claim he had emotions; and he had, but the impression was dulled considerably by the fact that his metaphorical brain sent imaginary impulses to a body that wasn't there. Nothing bothered him so much as the possibility that the love between himself and Edward indeed was a fabrication of the mind.

His mind remembered when, as a boy, he had no doubts as to the genuine feelings he felt in regards to his brother. At the same time, his rational side knew that it was ludicrous to think it was any different now that he wasn't in possession of his flesh body. Or more accurately, that those feelings hadn't been reinforced so heavily in recent years, causing a dramatic increased closeness to their relationship.

When he was younger, he could feel the warmth of Edward's fingers closing gently around his wrist and tugging him through the countryside. When Ed or Winry, or especially his mother, was sad, his own eyes could tear up with grief in response to their suffering. Now, the lack of sensation blunted his belief.

He couldn't feel the warmth in his chest when he was around those he cared for, couldn't feel his heart beat faster when Edward was in danger, couldn't feel a shiver down his spine when he himself was faced with unspeakable horrors. He couldn't sigh. Couldn't cry. Couldn't _feel_. All his senses and emotions were tangled together in a whirlwind of confusion, detached from his soul to waste away as "trade" or "punishment" for daring to set foot on holy ground.

He could remember knowing the sensations, though. He knew in his mind that it was possible to feel, that if only he had a body that reacted to his feelings…if indeed his feelings were real and not imagined fantasies…

He wondered if all his emotions were self-induced from old memories, or whether they really existed at all. If they were fake. A mocking attempt by his brain to make him feel slightly more human. Make him _think_ he was slightly more human.

Alphonse Elric loved his brother. But sometimes he worried that he wasn't capable of feeling actual emotions, that his love for Edward was false and unreal. If his mind wasn't simply _telling_ him, _reminding_ him that he loved his brother. For he surely had nothing to base his feelings on now, save memories and rational thought. He wondered if, had he not grown up with Edward and learned to love him then, he _could_ love Edward as the way he was now. Evaluating his love for his family against any possible feelings for the military personnel he was involved with wasn't a basis for comparison. He didn't _love_ any of _them_.

He wasn't sure if he was feeling things for real. When he was up against murderers or terrorists, he was 'angry' because it was _logical_ to be angry. His body didn't tense, didn't _react_ to anything. His mind informed him, based on his experiences pre-armor, that he should be feeling a certain way for a certain occasion. And sometimes he wondered if he didn't fool himself into believing it, believing that he had human emotions tucked away in the metal body. That even if he couldn't feel things through his fingertips, that the more important types of feelings were within his reach.

That the ability to respond to human emotions was still attached to his soul.

Because otherwise, the love Alphonse Elric felt for his older brother was simply by definition.


End file.
